Of Cigars and Puppy Dog Crushes
by Xenoglossy
Summary: A lost moment between Al and Martel. A confession, a promise and an understanding.


**PRE FIC RANTINGS AND A SPRINKLE OF DISCLAIMER:** Martel kicks ass and not enough people write fic about her. Martel and Al had the most adorable relationship in the universe and not enough people elaborate on it. Uh, hence this fic.  
BY THE WAY, MY HEART BROKE WHILE WRITING THIS!  
FMA isn't mine. You know that, I know that. I'll cease the, y'know, redundancy.**On Cigars and Puppy Dog Crushes**  
_Cephied Variable_Martel had been so quiet that Al had nearly forgotten about her until the smoke began to curl in front of his eyes. He yelped and jumped, wincing at the sudden cry of pain as the woman slammed against the front of his chest. Frantically, he unscrewed his head and asked: "A-Are you okay? What's happening? Why is there _smoke_?"Martel sighed and slithered out of him quickly, sitting across from him on the bed with her legs crossed and a cigar dangling between her thumb and forefinger. It took a moment for Al to connect the cigar with the smoke and suddenly he felt very, very foolish, "Oh. You were... you were smoking a _cigarette_ inside of me?"Ed would have killed her. Or at least been very angry. He would have said something like: _"Don't expose my little brother to that kind of garbage!"_Martel tipped her head apologetically and held the offending object up to the light, "It's not a cigarette- it's a cigar. I picked it up in that last town. In the military we smoke them to celebrate a great victory.""Great victory?" Al echoed in confusion. He searched his mind for a reference, but as far as he could tell there had been no "great victories" in recent memory, only great losses.Martel smirked and took a long puff of the cigar, exhaling languidly as she spoke, "The train carrying the Fuhrer arrived earlier today- weren't you listening to those guards at the gate? I'm celebrating the assassination of that evil man." she looked very satisfied with herself and Al almost swore that he could feel a shudder working it's way up his non-existant spine."Martel," he muttered sadly, "I already told you that I won't let you kill him."Martel shrugged carelessly and rolled her neck and shoulders. She sighed deeply in satisfaction when her spine cracked loudly, "I'm sorry Al, but when the time comes I doubt you'll be able to stop me.""B-but Martel!" he protested weakly, "It will be dangerous. And I don't just mean that you might die... I'm thinking of what it will do to you as a person. People who take revenge... people who _live_ for revenge... it's not healthy!" he realized that she was giving him a strange, measured look and he slouched back into his shoulders, "I... I'm just worried. I'm sorry."It took a moment, but sure enough a slow, sincere smile spread across the woman's face and she leaned forwards to pat Al on the head fondly, "You're a sweet kid, you know that Al?" she chuckled and took another drag of the cigar, "I almost wish that you had a real body right now. I could teach you how to smoke a cigar.:"O-oh n-n-no, I'm too young for that sort of thing!" Al stuttered, "My brother would be so mad.""Nonsense!" Martel waggled the cigar at Al's face, "You're only a year younger than the Fullmetal kid, right? If _he's_ old enough to be in the military, _you're_ old enough to smoke.""I... I don't know." Al sighed, "I don't think that I would like it."Martel eased back again and laughed, "Hey, you won't know until you try it!" her smiled faded and she studied him with a placid, distant expression. "It must be hard for you." she mused sadly."What?" Al wondered."That," she gestured to his body with one hand, "Being the way you are. When I was first made into a chimera it was... it was _difficult_. I couldn't imagine anything worse. But you-" she stopped abruptly and cleared her throat, "I'm sorry. I'm being rude."Al folded his hands in his lap and stared at them. Cold, hard steel- he couldn't even _remember_ what his real hands looked like, "No. It's okay. I mean... no, it _is_ hard, but I don't mind if you say anything about it. It's not like I'm sensitive about it- it's sort of hard to miss."She nodded sagely and finished off her cigar. She threw it over her shoulder and wrapped her arms around her knees, focusing her attention on Al, "I wouldn't be able to stand it." she said bitterly, "If I were you, I'd hate your brother."Al looked up urgently, "I don't hate my brother! I love him!"Martel snickered, "Oh, I know that, Al. You're a much better person than me. But if I were you... I would be so jealous. I'd hate him for every bite of food he ate, everytime he tipped his head up to the sun or the rain. I'd hate him everytime he _bled_. Hell, I'd hate him for every time he touched his own body- feelings things that I had never felt.""W-what do you mean by that?" Al stammered, feeling as if he were missing out on something here. Should he be jealous? His brother had done everything he possibly could! "What do you mean by, um, things that-""Oh come on. Your brother is sixteen years old. You can't tell me that he doesn't... you know... touch himself at night and-""No!" Al shouted, absolutely horrified by what she was suggesting, "My brother... he... he doesn't think about things like that!"Martel scoffed, "Hmm, I bet. You're saying that he doesn't think about girls?""N-no! Of course not!" _does he?_ Al was quickly growing uncomfortable with this line of conversation. Were adults always supposed to be this blunt? Al didn't want to know whether his brother thought about girls that way or not."Don't _you_ ever think about girls, Al?" she asked, her tone a bit more gentle.Al wrung his hands together and wanted to answer: _NO!_, but instead he thought about it for a moment and realized that he did. More than he cared to, in fact. He remembered how he had felt when Psiren had smiled at him in the garden that day. He remembered how he felt when he first realized that Winry had grown up into a very, _very_ pretty young woman. He looked at Martel and tried to imagine her in a skirt, or a lovely dress only to realize that she was beautiful in an entirely different way. All hard edges, long limbs, tough-but-vunerable attitude.Oh yes, Al thought about girls quite a bit. He wondered what his brother would think about _that_."Yes. Of course I do." he murmered, "But I can't really do anything about it."Martel was silent for a long moment. So long that it began to feel awkward. Al was about to say something to break the silence when they heard voices in the hallway. Instead, he lifted his head and allowed Martel to crawl back inside where it was dark and safe.When the voices had passed, Martel said: "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought all that up. I guess I was just curious.""Ah, it's... okay." Al said hesitantly. He wasn't sure if it was or not, but he wanted her to think that it was. He couldn't blame her for being curious."I'll tell you what." Martel said quietly from where she was curled up at the base of Al's stomach, "When you get your body back, I'll teach you how to smoke a cigar, and how to drink. All those things your brother won't like you doing. And I'll teach you how to get a girlfriend, because a sweet guy like you really deserves one."Al couldn't help but feel a surge of odd affection for the woman. Martel was strange- perhaps the strangest woman he'd ever met in his life- but for some reason, she was beginning to feel almost like family, "I'll look forward to it." he replied, tone almost bright, "And until then, I'll keep you safe."fin. 


End file.
